


Silent Sacrifices

by DeadshotMusketeer



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadshotMusketeer/pseuds/DeadshotMusketeer
Summary: Complete.  One shot.  Wyatt whump.  Shortly after the 'Alamo' mission, Rufus finds himself in a dangerous predicament which turns perilous for Wyatt as he sacrifices himself to save his friend.  And if you squint  hard enough, you might see some Lyatt/Wucy in there.





	

**Author’s Note:** I like to introduce myself into a new fandom with a quick one shot highlighting my favourite character. So this little story is hopefully a sign of things to come, that being more chapter intense fanfics revolving around Wyatt Logan and all things whumpalicious. And for those of you who follow my Musketeer stories, there’s still more to come, I just can’t ignore this fascinating new character in Timeless and must write what I must write.

* * *

 

Silent Sacrifices

A _Timeless_ fanfic

by DeadshotMusketeer

 

_“I left them there to die… and they gave me a medal for it.”_

\- Wyatt Logan, The Alamo

 

With over a decade of soldiering behind him, Wyatt still hated traversing uneven terrain, and even more so when it was covered in frozen snow and ice. It didn’t help that his historically accurate boots were barely sufficient in keeping his feet warm, they also lacked modern soles with grip technology, causing a slight rise in his blood pressure each time he glanced to his right where a steep embankment bordered a very cold, very worrisome river.  

His left foot slipped out from under him for the fifth time since setting out, which caused his ankle to roll and him to stumble before he could catch his balance. Cursing under his breath, he pulled his doublet tighter around him and pressed on into the snow filled wind. He, Rufus and Lucy were barely a click from town with at least another two clicks to go until they reached the lifeboat. He figured Flynn was long gone by now, for with trained soldiers at his side he could move quicker through the frozen forest.

Wyatt looked back at Lucy and Rufus struggling to maintain his speed and reluctantly slowed his pace with an exasperated sigh. It wasn’t that he was angry with them, but rather, at their situation and his teammates lack of training. He hated to think it, but sometimes he thought he would be better off alone. He could move faster without them, and unrestrained by Lucy’s moral core or Rufus’ innate clumsiness he could get the job done quicker and go home.

But as he watched them, clinging to each other as they slid and stumbled through the forest, Wyatt couldn’t imagine them not being there. What would he do without Rufus’ piloting expertise or quick wit that made desperate situations seem a little less dire? How would he pass as an American spy behind Nazi lines or as a civil war soldier without the help of Lucy? Even more so, how could he go a full week without seeing her smile or reach across the lifeboat to help her with her seatbelt?

He shook his head. Now was not the time.

Dispelling his impractical thoughts, he hunched his shoulders forward, concentrated on keeping his teeth from chattering and waited for his teammates to catch up. Rufus wore similar boots to him that left them only slightly more able than Lucy who could barely keep her balance as her tiny, heeled shoes continuously slipped on the rough frozen terrain.

Noting her increasing difficulties, Wyatt stretched out an arm to offer assistance when Rufus suddenly yelped and slipped out of sight.

Wyatt dove forward, following Rufus’ trajectory over the small embankment. Ice tore his clothes, scratched his chest as he slid to the edge of the small cliff, catching Rufus’ hand before it disappeared along with his flailing body.

He grabbed with his other hand, fingers stiff with the beginnings of frostbite, and held onto his friend. Behind him he heard Lucy gasping, her feet sliding on the ice. 

“Stay back!” he yelled, his chest constricted against the hardened ground as Rufus’ weight pulled at him.

“Oh my god!” cried Lucy, and suddenly Wyatt felt two small hands grab his ankles. 

Wyatt instantly regretted not forcing his two teammates into a gym sooner, for neither of them was strong enough to get themselves out of this mess.  

He drew in a deep breath, winced as shards of ice cut further into his chest, and gripped Rufus’ hand harder. Several feet below his friend’s dangling legs, Wyatt saw the river, dark and cold but thankfully shallow and calm.

“I’m gonna die… I don’t wanna die…” gasped Rufus, holding onto Wyatt’s arms with quickly sapping strength.

Wyatt chose to ignore Lucy struggling behind him in lieu of his friend dangling over the precipice and locked eyes with him. “Can you swim?” he asked, his steady voice betraying the strain his body was suffering.

“Yes, yes,” cried Rufus.

Wyatt smirked. “Then you’re not going to die,” he said. “Now stay still. If you keep kicking I’ll be going over with you… along with Lucy apparently.” He glanced behind him to where Lucy sat on the ground, feet slipping on the ice as she tried to dig her heels in, all the while holding onto Wyatt’s ankles.

“It’s all right,” he said to her. “I’ve got him. Now get back where it’s safe.”

A moment passed where she stared at him, then she nodded and pushed herself back and away from danger.

With Lucy safe, Wyatt turned to Rufus who’d finally managed to relax his flailing legs, but still stared up at him with large, frightened eyes.

“Hold still,” said Wyatt, flexing his right arm in preparation of hauling his friend upward.

Years of weight training and lugging military grade provisions across countless kilometres, made Wyatt strong enough to pull his friend up, but the sharp ice on the edge of the embankment digging into the soft flesh of his arm proved difficult to overcome.

At first he felt warmness take over his upper arm, followed by numbness. But he kept pulling his friend up, despite the stabbing pain that came next. “Hold on,” he forced between clenched teeth, as he fought against the tearing sensation in his arm.

Wyatt’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat, he felt blood drain from his face and his right arm trembled, but he wouldn’t let go. The plummet wouldn’t kill Rufus, but it could certainly do damage they had no provisions to care for, so Wyatt knew he could not let Rufus go.

He pulled harder, causing the skin of his arm to further split open, and without thought Wyatt’s hand loosened around his friend’s. “Plan B,” he choked out. “You’re gonna have to climb me.”

Rufus’ eyes went larger, his mouth opened then closed.

“Just do it!” cried Wyatt, re-tightening his grip. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

Rufus kicked at the wall of dirt and ice at his feet and started scrambling up Wyatt’s arm. With each inch his friend gained, Wyatt felt himself slipping forward. He didn’t care; he couldn’t let go of Rufus. He knew his own body could withstand more punishment than his friend’s and steadfastly resigned to his fate before Rufus cleared the edge.

For at his friend’s last pull on his arm, Wyatt’s body, drained of all energy, slid over the edge of the embankment into a free fall until he splashed into the frigid water below.

_~Timeless~_

With nothing but the extensive layers of skirts around Lucy’s waist available to keep Wyatt warm, and to which he refused to take for it would leave her unprotected, there was nothing they could do to stem his mounting hypothermia but get him to the lifeboat. Rufus held the soldier around the waist, his body as close to his as possible to share heat, while Lucy held onto his other side.

Clothes soaked and forming a thin layer of ice, Wyatt’s body shivered, his teeth chattered and legs moved sluggishly slow through the snow. Lucy blew on her left hand, heating it as best she could before slipping it under Wyatt’s shirt to warm his back.

His skin was ice cold, no longer wet, just frozen. She rubbed small circles, but ultimately knew Wyatt couldn’t feel a thing. 

“Do you need to rest?” asked Rufus.

“No,” replied Wyatt, voice gravelly and quiet. “Just keep going.”

Lucy pulled her hand out from under his shirt and gripped his belt when she noticed his weight getting heavier. “Are you sure?” she asked.

His jaw spasmed uncontrollably around his chattering teeth and Lucy realized he was having difficulty talking. They still had so far to go, and with his body slowly dropping with each step they took, his body shaking, and now as she looked into his pale face, his eyes drooping closed, she was sure they’d never make it back to the lifeboat before he collapsed.

“We have to stop,” she said, and when no argument came from Wyatt a burning ignited in her eyes. Silence was never a good sign.

She and Rufus maneuverer his body gently onto the ground where the snow under Wyatt’s right arm slowly turned red, the stain creeping outward across the white ground as his arm bled through the hole in his shirt and coat.

Unable to argue with her now, Lucy tore off strips of her skirt and tied them around the jagged wound, knowing it was only a stopgap and that definitive medical treatment was needed.

“He’s going to be okay,” said Rufus, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Lucy sniffed back tears that would most likely freeze on her cheeks if left to fall, and smiled at her friend. “Is that a promise?”

“If it has to be,” replied Rufus.

Lucy tore her gaze away from Rufus and looked around. Time with Wyatt had taught her to always keep alight of the situation, always be aware, so she surveyed their surroundings looking for anything that might help. She knew Wyatt was no longer capable of walking, and dragging him through the snow and ice was not an option unless it was the last, so when she spotted a fallen tree to their right an idea came to her.

“A travois,” she said, gathering her skirts as she stood. She stumbled over to the tree and dragged it back to where Rufus sat with Wyatt. “We can build one of those sled things and pull him back to the lifeboat.”

Rufus stared at her long and hard. “If you say so,” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “But just so ya know, I was never a Boy Scout.”

“The alternative is we leave Wyatt here to die, or stay with him and we all freeze to death.”

Rufus nodded. “I’ll take door number one,” he replied, reaching across Wyatt’s prone body to gab one of the branches.

As the wind picked up around them, whipping snow across their exposed skin and leaving a thin layer like a blanket on Wyatt’s shivering form, Rufus and Lucy jerry-rigged a travois which they hoped was strong enough to bare their friend’s weight.

Body stiff and uncooperative, Rufus rolled Wyatt onto their contraption and hoisted one end in the air. With Wyatt secure behind him, he began trudging through the snow, his mind solely focused on getting to the lifeboat before his friend stopped shaking. 

Lucy walked alongside Wyatt and helped lift the travois over the rougher terrain or when a tree was in their way until finally Rufus collapsed onto his knees.

“There it is,” he said, between pants of exhaustion. “The lifeboat.”

Lucy smiled, quick and short, for only a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She dropped to her knees, picked up Wyatt’s right hand, which felt so light, and delicate in her own, not strong and confident like it usually did. She pursed her lips to hold back the tears once again, and held the back of his hand to her cheek. “We’re almost there,” she said. “Just hold on.”

Wyatt groaned, tilted his head back as his lips spread into a thin line. Lucy saw deep lines etched in his forehead and even deeper crinkle at the corner of his eyes. He held this position for several seconds before his body went slack and his teeth started chattering again.

“We need to hurry,” she said to Rufus.

On his hands and knees, Rufus looked back and nodded. He climbed slowly to his feet, raised one end of the lean-to and started forward again. At first his pace was laboured, then it picked up as they drew closer to the lifeboat. By the time they were several meters from the machine, Lucy could barely keep up.

At the foot of the time machine, Rufus dropped the lean-to unceremoniously on the ground and scrambled up the outside of the lifeboat. When the door was open he climbed back down and knelt beside Wyatt and Lucy.

“We need to get him inside and go,” he said, squeezing Lucy’s shoulder.

“I know,” she replied, unable to raise her eyes from Wyatt. All the etch marks of pain were gone, his face was slack and pale, his lips were slightly parted and his teeth no longer chattered.

Lucy glanced back down the trail in which they’d come, noting several dots of red marking their path in the snow. Her own hands trembling and white with cold, she reached for the soft part of Wyatt’s neck in search of a pulse.

It was there, slow but strong. She smiled at Rufus who let out a breath and fell back on his haunches.

“Let’s get him home,” she said.

_~Timeless~_

In the lifeboat, the only thing holding Wyatt upright was the seatbelt. His head was canted to the side, his hands rested awkwardly in his lap, his eyes were closed and all Lucy could do was pray he lasted a few more minutes.

When the lifeboat began to shake, Rufus’ hand appeared near hers and she gratefully took it. She pushed her head back into the seat, closed her eyes and let time and space collapse and re-form around her. When they stopped and the machine had settled, she opened her eyes to see Wyatt staring back at her, eyes wide, mouth agape as he drew in ragged breaths.

His arms flailed, clutching and snatching at everything and everyone around him. His eyes were as wild as his appendages, looking at each of them as if he didn’t recognize them.

When the door cycled opened, he was still frantic. Lucy ignored the faces in the hatchway and tried to calm her friend, until suddenly he stopped and went flaccid in his chair.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Agent Christopher.

Lucy swallowed as she turned to her boss and regretfully informed her that once again, Wyatt needed a doctor.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur for Lucy. Bodies filled the lifeboat to take Wyatt away, followed by hands helping her and Rufus out of the time machine. Faces and words floated past her as she was ushered through the debarkation room to another where the army had set up an infirmary.

Lucy sat on a stretcher, a warm blanket over her shoulders and a thermometer between her lips. Every muscle ached from shivering and she feared her chattering teeth would break the instrument in her mouth, spilling mercury into her system. Up until now she had only thought of Wyatt and hadn’t considered the fact that she had also been exposed to inclement weather.

Across from her, on the other side of Wyatt who lay on a stretcher between them, sat Rufus, shivering under his own blanket and sipping from a mug. One was offered to Lucy, and although the sweet aroma enticed her, and the warmth it emanated begged to be drunk, she pushed it away and slid off the bed. He feet carried her the two steps to Wyatt’s bed without her even feeling the floor.

She pushed a fatigue-wearing nurse out her way and stood next to Wyatt’s head. His face was pale, his forehead dotted with large droplets of sweat. His lips were tinged blue and as Lucy trailed her eyes down his bare torso in which several nurses were rushing to place warming pads on his body, she noticed a crisscrossing pattern of scratches and bruises.

She swallowed hard but did not look away. Instead, she let her gaze move to his right arm where it still bled through the tattered bandaged she’d made from her skirts. “His arm,” she said absently, her fingers hovering over the wound but afraid to touch.

Hands on her arms pulled her backward and away from Wyatt while kind voices urged her to rest, but she fought against them and rushed back to her friend’s bedside.

“We have everything under control, Ms. Preston,” said a voice. “We need you to stay back.”

“Here, you need to drink this…”

“You need to warm up…”

“You need to let us…”

“I need to know he’s going to be all right!” shouted Lucy, struggling within the grip of the military nurses.

But it wasn’t until Rufus appeared before her that she stopped fighting and calmed down. She fell forward, her cheek landing on Rufus’ chest as his arms embraced her. She felt so safe, almost too safe, and soon her pent up emotions were spilling out.

Tears that no longer froze, fell down her cheeks as she sobbed into Rufus’ chest. So much had happened over the past day it was all too overwhelming for her to hold back. Losing Flynn again… Almost losing Rufus… Then Wyatt… And suddenly realizing she’d almost froze to death… 

She reached around Rufus and pulled him closer, to which Rufus held her tighter.

“They won’t let anything happen to him,” he said, rubbing her back. “We’re safe now.”

Lucy nodded, wiping her tears on her friend’s shirt, then looked up at him. She had nothing to say, and felt no need to say anything for Rufus had been there and knew exactly what happened. They stood in silence at the side of Wyatt’s bed, watching as nurses mended his broken body.

His arm was stitched, heavy warm blankets draped over his body were replaced at regular intervals, IV’s were established and medications given with Wyatt remaining unconscious through most of it. An occasional groan or wince escaped his lips when his body was nudged too harshly or a needle was stuck through his skin, and on one occasion he cried out, back arching off the bed before falling onto his side where he rolled into the foetal position.

No one explained anything to either Lucy or Rufus, they simply went about their jobs, until Agent Christopher walked in and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ve read the doctor’s report,” she said, nodding to the side of the room.

Lucy and Rufus let go of each other and followed their boss away from the bed. “He’s going to be fine, right?” asked Lucy.

“Yes,” replied Agent Christopher. “Master Sergeant Logan will be just fine.”

Her quick and no-nonsense response was a relief to Lucy and she let her self breathe easy for the first time since Rufus yelped back in the forest. Snow. Ice. River. Trail of blood… She sighed and raised a hand to her forehead. “There was so much blood,” she whispered.

Agent Christopher smiled, patted her shoulder. “The human body can lose a lot more than Wyatt did,” she replied. “Besides, if anything was going to get him, it would have been the hypothermia.”

“Oh, well, that’s reassuring,” said Rufus. “That sounds like a much better way to die.”

“Mr. Logan has done his cold water training,” said Christopher, rather matter-of-factly. “As well as several winter indocs.” She paused and smiled. “That’s winter training,” she explained. “His body is trained to handle a lot more abuse than this. It’s a good thing neither of you went over that embankment.”

“Um, about that…” started Rufus, before Lucy jabbed him in the ribs.

“Whether he can take the abuse or not,” stated Lucy, looking over her shoulder at Wyatt. “He shouldn’t have to. We’ll be more careful in the future.”

Agent Christopher eyed them both with a furrowed brow. “ _You’ll_ be more careful?”

Lucy opened her mouth to speak but Christopher raised a hand. “I actually don’t want to know,” she said. “Let it be a surprise when I read your reports.” She shook her head with a mild roll of her eyes and left the room, but not before pausing at the mantle to take a long look at Wyatt. 

“Why didn’t you let me tell her the truth?” urged Rufus, when their boss finally left.

Lucy turned to the bed, watched Wyatt for several moments before responding. “Wyatt doesn’t do what he does for accolades,” she said quietly, as the man in question stirred under the mountain of blankets which covered him.

“If we told Agent Christopher the truth, she might want to thank him,” she continued, her body moving sub-consciously toward the bed.

“I say thank him. Give the man a medal,” replied Rufus.

“No,” rushed Lucy, turning back to him. “I… I don’t think he’d like that,” she said, the eagerness in her voice diminishing as her memories travelled back to the Alamo. Back to the moment Wyatt had looked at her after sharing his story with Jim Bowie.

The hurt and embarrassment he’d shared with her with in that one quick, and thoughtful look, made her realize that thanking him for doing his job, for being brave and not leaving a man behind, would only make him uncomfortable.

Rufus pouted. “But everyone loves medals.”

“Not everyone,” whispered Lucy, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at Wyatt.

She watched him sleep, mostly peaceful, for the better part of the day, wanting to go over and hold his hand or stroke the fallen hair from his eyes when he stirred restlessly, but held herself back. No amount of mothering would help him, he needed what the nurses and doctor could give him, but decided that when he was well enough to sit up and listen without chattering or shivering, she and Rufus would thank him for all he did in a more private and intimate conversation.

_The End._


End file.
